


The Prince of Portland

by Morgane (smilla840)



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M, Making up stuff about royalty, Written before 1x05 but somehow still canon compliant (kinda), some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Renard has plans for Nick and he will go to great lengths to keep him alive until he can fulfil them - including using some unconventional methods like tasking a Blutbad with his safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince of Portland

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Čeština available: [Princ Portlandu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018122) by [TakahashiYuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakahashiYuri/pseuds/TakahashiYuri)



> Written for the following prompt at grimm_kink: _Renard notices that Nick's been spending a lot of time with a certain Blutbad recently. He decides to inform said Blutbad just whose territory he's infringing on, and who Nick belongs to_. 
> 
> I have based my concept of royalty in the Grimm world very liberally on the show Kindred: The Embraced. I say liberally because there are no vampires here and I’ve never actually seen that show, just read a few fics about it :)
> 
> Warnings: some violence, death of a (very) minor character, spoilers up to 1x04

Monroe is distracted.

He is distracted as he drives home, grumbling to himself about Grimm boys who don’t know their place and insist on dragging him along on their latest adventure to make the world a safer place for people (not) like Monroe. 

He is distracted as he extracts himself from his car and stomps up to his front door, thinking of missed Pilates sessions and broken clocks that do not repair themselves while Monroe is out there doing police business he isn’t being paid for.

Yes, Monroe is distracted, which is why he doesn’t notice the stranger in his home until he is standing in the middle of his hallway and the sheer _wrongness_ of someone else in his territory hits him like a ton of bricks.

He growls, feeling his face morph, and for once he doesn’t bother fighting it. He steps forward, intent on confronting the invader and -

There is a man in a suit sitting in his living room. He looks right at home too, lounging back in Monroe’s armchair with an air of deceptive nonchalance.

Monroe freezes.

He is no fool. He hasn’t lived as long as he has in a world that frankly doesn’t want his kind by taking on more than he can chew - no pun intended.

And this man? Make no mistake, this man is dangerous.

"Do you know who I am?" the stranger asks idly, his tone at odds with the sharpness in his eyes as he studies him.

Monroe blinks away from the bright red of his tie - purposefully so, no doubt - to meet his assessing gaze. He wants to say ‘no, I’ve never seen you before in my life’ and that’s the truth except he _does_ know him, some deeply ingrained instinct making him go down to his knees and he barely stops himself from rolling over to expose his throat and belly.

How embarrassing.

The man quirks an eyebrow at him, looking faintly amused by Monroe’s reaction.

"Good boy," he says and the praise makes Monroe quiver with pleasure.

The wolf, it appears, does not understand irony.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time with Nick Burkhardt lately. Why?" the man’s voice loses its casualness on that last word, going steely and demanding, and Monroe’s blood goes cold. 

Of course. He should have known. 

It seems a Grimm will be the end of him after all.

Silence stretches between them as Monroe struggles to find an answer. Nick can be annoying and a little exhausting and they certainly aren’t friends - then again Monroe hasn’t had a friend in so long he might not recognise one even if he saw one - but the guy still trusts him to watch his back and Monroe isn’t going to just sell him out. 

This newly found loyalty wages war with the urge to answer - to please - and Monroe finally settles for a noncommittal:

"He asked for my help."

The man looks at him like he is some kind of puzzle he can’t quite figure out - and isn’t sure is worth his time - and leans forward.

"So you’re helping him."

Monroe nods.

"Why?"

Isn’t that the $1 million question? He’s asked himself that a great many times and he’s got no answer. Or maybe he’s got too many. He helps because Nick doesn’t take no for an answer, because no one’s ever asked Monroe for anything and no matter how much he may complain it’s nice to feel useful. 

Because Nick has no idea what he is doing and he’s going to get himself killed some day if Monroe keeps shutting the door in his face and strangely enough he doesn’t want to see that happen.

Because even Monroe gets lonely sometimes.

"Because he’s got no one else."

The man leans forward to rest his chin against his crossed fingers and looks at Monroe some more until finally he stands. There’s a rustle of clothes as he moves closer to where Monroe’s still kneeling and Monroe holds himself very still, staring at the carpet.

Judgement has been passed and now the sentence will be dealt.

"Very well."

The words - the approval in those words - startle him. So does the hand in his hair, tightening painfully as his head is yanked back ‘til Monroe finds himself staring into the man’s dangerously narrowed eyes.

"But make no mistake: Nick Burkhardt is mine."

There’s a possessiveness in his voice that makes Monroe’s mouth go dry and he doesn’t dare blink until the man releases him.

What has Nick gotten himself into now?

"You’d better guard him with your life. If anything happens to him I will hold you personally responsible."

Monroe nods numbly and the man takes a step back.

"I’ll be watching," he adds as a parting comment and Monroe doesn’t watch him leave.

He remains kneeling for long minutes afterward, until he stops shaking and his knees hurt. Then he pushes himself to his feet and staggers into the seat that’s just been vacated, trying to make sense of what’s just happened.

He takes a deep breath, the first since he came home and found his Prince in his living room, and it’s only then that he realizes -

The man smells of Nick.

\---

Something weird is going on.

Okay, this more or less summarises Nick’s life these past few months so maybe he should clarify: something weird is going on with Monroe.

The man hasn’t complained once about being dragged into Nick’s investigations in over a month. Nick might be inclined to believe he’s just given in to the inevitable - no one can out-stubborn Nick - if it wasn’t for the fact that Monroe’s gone all jittery around him. He jumps at shadows, refuses to leave him alone and argues about unnecessary risk.

Hell, last week Nick caught him _smelling_ him.

It was a little disturbing.

Now Nick will be the first to admit that he doesn’t know the man all that well. He might have other things going on, things that have absolutely nothing to do with Nick and which are putting him on edge. But from what Nick’s seen of his life so far that doesn’t seem very likely. Plus he’d like to think that they’re becoming friends: he’s allowed to be a little concerned.

God, Nick hopes this isn’t about going back to his old diet. Is there some sort of support group for that? Should he say something?

"Get down!" Monroe yells somewhere behind him and Nick suddenly finds himself face first in the river they were crossing, Monroe’s weight pressing him down.

...And then there is that. 

It’s the third time this month Monroe has taken it upon himself to ‘save’ him - the first time from a car honking and the second from a deer. He still has the bruises to show for it.

Nick comes up sputtering and coughing up the mouthful of water he’s just swallowed, a cursory look of the area telling him what he suspected: that there is absolutely nothing out there. He turns and glares at the other man.

"What was it this time? A bird? A rabbit?"

Monroe looks sullen.

"I thought I saw something," he mutters and Nick rolls his eyes.

"Really, are you trying to kill me?"

"Don’t say that!" Monroe shrieks, looking around with something akin to panic on his face as if someone might overhear and that’s it.

Nick’s had enough.

He’s wet and cold and he isn’t letting this slide anymore.

"What’s going on?"

"What do you mean? Nothing is going on." Monroe gives a little laugh, nervous and utterly unconvincing.

Nick crosses his arms and waits.

The effect would probably be more impressive if he wasn’t looking like a half-drowned rat but beggars and all that...

Luckily Monroe’s easy.

"Okay, fine. You want to know what’s up, I’ll tell you," he relents. "But not out here."

 

They drive to Monroe’s house in silence - whatever this is, Nick is pretty sure he doesn’t want to explain it to Juliette - and Monroe only grumbles a little at having to come up with dry clothes for Nick.

Then he makes tea and it’s such an obvious delaying tactic that Nick would call him out on it except he’s still cold and tea sounds like a wonderful idea.

"So?" he finally asks again with his hands wrapped tightly around his mug. "You’re going to tell me what’s up with you?"

Monroe stares at his own tea for a few seconds before looking up, resolution written all over his face.

"I had a visitor a few weeks ago," he says. "He wanted to talk about you."

"Why?" Nick frowns and Monroe rolls his eyes at him.

"You’re the Grimm, remember?"

"I _know_ that. And who are you even talking about?"

"Who do you think? The Prince! And really, you could have told me that -"

The what?

"Wait, wait," Nick interrupts. "The _what_?"

Monroe stares at him like he’s just said something very stupid.

"You really don’t know anything, do you?"

"Hey!" Nick protests - he’s learning! - but Monroe ignores him.

"The Prince? Regent of the city of Portland and its territories? Who rules over all Grimm creatures within its boundaries. Except you of course."

Nick looks at him blankly. No, that doesn’t ring a bell.

"My God, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long," Monroe mutters and Nick kind of wants to nod there because the more he learns about this Grimm world, the more he realises he really doesn’t have a clue. "Grimm creatures, the ones you meet through your work? They’re the ones that’ve gone bad. We’re not all like that. There are rules. No killing, no advertising that we exist. If you can’t live by them you’d better find some place far away from civilisation or they’ll come for you."

"The Grimms?"

"The... No, not the _Grimms_." Monroe rolls his eyes at him. "Well, okay, maybe the Grimms will come too but that’s because the system has gotten a bit rotten."

"Okay, now you’ve lost me completely."

"Why do I have to be the one to give you the history lesson? Don’t you have books or something?" Monroe whines and Nick just looks at him until he relents. He always does.

"Fine, fine..." Monroe sips some of his tea before setting the mug down. "Here’s how it is: long before the brothers Grimm came along with their neat little superpower everything supernatural was ruled by royalty."

Nick opens his mouth to ask a question but Monroe glares at him and he subsides, gesturing at him to go on.

"It still is: each Prince is in charge of keeping the peace in his or her territory - and believe me, they get territorial. They’re judge, jury and executioner. Break the rules and you’ll find yourself wishing you hadn’t. For a while the system worked well: one Prince was even famous for appointing a Grimm to a court position. There was balance."

"So what happened?"

Monroe huffs.

"I’m getting there, aren’t I? What happened is what always happens when you’ve got a system in place for centuries. It got all screwy. Some Princes got a little overboard with the Law. Others just didn’t care. That’s when some Grimms stepped up. Stopped with the watching and book-writing and started taking up the slack."

Nick nods slowly.

"So... they’re still around? Princes, I mean. There’s one in Portland?"

"Oh yeah. And he knows all about you."

Nick can’t stop a shiver from running down his back. That sounded ominous.

"What should I do?" he asks and Monroe looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

"How the hell should I know?"

"Well you’re the one who knows him!"

"First of all I don’t _know_ him. He just showed up in my living room one day and scared the crap out of me. Seemed quite invested in your continued well-being. Why do you think I’ve been a bit on edge lately? Something happens to you, it’s on my head and I really don’t want to get on his bad side. Second you don’t have to do anything. Grimms are humans, so technically you don’t answer to him."

Well, there is that at least. Nick has to admit he wasn’t looking forward to having to obey the every whim of some megalomaniac.

"So. This Prince. How bad is he?" he asks because he might as well know what he is up against.

Monroe looks at him like he's just grown an extra head. "Bad? He’s not bad."

Now Nick is confused. "But you said -"

"Nick, look," Monroe cuts him off with a sigh. "This world, my world? It’s not all puppies and roses. You’ve seen what some of us are capable of doing, how do you think we get policed? Princes aren’t _nice_ , not the great ones. They can’t be, not if they want to be effective. Do you have any idea how many lives depend on their sole authority? This one? I always heard he was one of the good ones. Tough, you know, but fair. That’s why I moved to Portland when I decided to go green. Blutbaden... we’re not welcomed everywhere. But I knew that as long as I didn’t cause trouble he would leave me alone - and protect me if others took an issue with me."

Monroe picks up his tea again after that, sipping it pointedly to make it clear the conversation is over. Nick could push it but he’s got enough on his mind right now, and so they drink their tea in silence, Nick going through the motion mechanically as he tries to sort out his thoughts. Sometimes it feels like he’s bumbling around in the dark, stumbling around with no clue about the world around him. Those times he gets a little angry at his aunt - why did she never say anything to him about all this? Maybe if she had he wouldn’t feel so out of his depth most of the time.

And now this. Princes and laws and Nick has no idea where to start. But he thinks maybe he understands what Monroe was trying to tell him. Understands what it’s like to be responsible for so many people, to put duty above everything else, no matter the cost.

Nick doesn’t know if he could do it. Probably not. If he could maybe he would have broken things off with Juliette like his aunt wanted him to.

A Prince.

Who cares enough about what happens to him to scare Monroe half to death. Quite frankly Nick doesn’t know whether that’s comforting - at least there is someone else out there who has his back - or terrifying - there has to be a catch somewhere, he must want Nick for something.

Nick drinks his tea, breathes slowly and doesn’t freak out.

He’s had a lot of practice with that lately.

\---

Sean signs the last of the reports and sits back in his chair, closing his eyes for a few seconds of bliss - he’s allowed, no one will see. 

All the paperwork that goes with a captain position is going to be the death of him.

It’s dark outside and way past the time for him to go home. He shuts down his computer and gathers his things, stopping at the door of his office to glance around the darkened detective room. Everyone’s left for the day - everyone except -

Sean sighs. This is not good.

"Burkhardt," he barks coming up behind the room’s only occupant and making him jump half out of his skin.

Not good at all.

"Sorry sir. I thought I was the only one left," Nick says, not quite meeting his eyes.

Sean studies the man in front of him and doesn’t like what he sees. Nick looks like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep or a proper meal in weeks - rumour has it he split up with his girlfriend a couple of months ago. Sean is not one to listen to rumours (except he totally is) but the fact that Nick has been spending all his free time at the station is a dead giveaway that something is wrong.

Sean doesn’t really care about his detectives’ private lives - not even Nick’s. The girl could have been useful but she wasn’t strictly necessary. No, what he does care about is Nick getting himself killed because sleep deprivation made him too slow to dodge whatever will come at him next.

Sean’s protection only extends so far and he _needs_ Nick.

"Get your coat," he says - orders - and Nick blinks at him owlishly.

"Sir?"

"I’m buying you dinner."

The kid gets all flustered - it is kind of cute - and Sean raises an eyebrow at him, effectively cutting off his protests.

He waits patiently as Nick gets his things sorted and then gently steers him towards the exit with a light hand on his shoulder. He only lets go when they get to the stairs and he’s relatively sure Nick isn’t going to come up with some excuse to go back to his desk. But Nick it seems is too tired to do even that and he just follows Sean like a lost puppy.

They walk to the diner on the corner in silence and Sean takes a booth by the window where he can watch people walking by. His people. His city. He likes watching them go about their business. It’s a reminder that everything is running smoothly.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts when the waitress comes over to take their orders and once she’s gone he refocuses his attention on Nick, who seems to be finding the table top fascinating.

"How are you doing, Nick?" he asks and Nick looks up, meeting Sean’s eyes briefly before looking away.

"Fine, sir," he lies and Sean rolls his eyes.

"You know, you can call me Sean when we’re not at work."

That has the effect he was looking for: it gets Nick looking at him again, startled, which is when he adds, "And I can always tell when you’re lying to me. You’re very bad at it."

"I’m not," Nick protests, sounding offended - and no doubt thinking about all the times he’s lied recently to cover up Grimm-related activities. Too bad Sean already knows about all of them. "I’m fine, really."

Sean gives him a pointed look and Nick amends that statement to:

"I’ll be fine."

"You look like shit."

What? No one’s ever said Sean was a smooth talker.

His abrupt statement startles a snort out of Nick.

"Thank you," he says. "Sean," he adds with a hint of hesitation which Sean magnanimously ignores.

"Seriously, Nick." Sean leans forward with his elbows on the table, laughter forgotten. "I will bench you if you don’t start taking better care of yourself. The last thing I need is a dead cop on my hands. Too much paperwork."

Nick nods slowly and Sean nods back. They understand each other and so he lets the subject drop as the waitress comes back with their drinks, lounging back with an arm thrown out over the back of the booth.

The rest of the dinner conversation is a little awkward, the way it often is between people who aren’t used to spending time together - especially when one of these people is the other’s captain - but it’s not unpleasant and at least Nick’s out of the office. 

At the end of the evening he puts Nick in a cab with strict orders to go home and sleep, which makes Nick smile for some reason.

Much better.

 

The next day Nick looks a little less like death warmed over and Sean congratulates himself for a job well done. He can go back to not caring now.

Except it doesn’t stop there. It’s Nick’s fault, obviously. Sean would have been quite happy with letting it be a one-off except when Nick approaches him about dinner a week later Sean finds himself saying yes.

It’s a mistake, he knows. He might rationalise it as being a way to get close to Nick, secure his loyalty, but it’s more than that. And it’s dangerous - oh it’s so very dangerous. Because Sean actually _likes_ Nick. He hadn’t expected to when he first got Nick transferred to his district - certainly didn’t want to - but there it is. It’s not something he particularly enjoys - it’s so much easier to use people when you don’t care about their feelings - and he resents it, resents how it makes him question himself sometimes. And really what he should be doing is damage control, not encouraging it.

Yet he still finds himself having dinner with Nick once a week - caseload permitting - and Sean knows it isn’t going to end well.

\---

Monroe should have known this was going to happen. Should have known that one day he wouldn’t get out of there fast enough and he would find himself right in the middle of a police investigation.

Mind, at least this time he isn’t a suspect so it’s a vast improvement.

The gash on his head, however, is not.

He had been trailing a creature for Nick - when he should have been in a middle of a Pilates session, mind! - except this time the woman had taken exception to his following her and hit him over the head with... something. Monroe is a bit fuzzy on the details. 

He doesn’t even know _what_ she was, has never seen her kind before and Nick’s usual font of information hadn’t been any help for once. What she had been doing though was abducting young Grimm creatures and adding to the general unrest. Monroe doesn’t know what’s going on with the city but he has never seen so many Grimm-related crimes before. He can feel it too, crawling just under his skin, inciting him to violence.

Something is very wrong and he can’t figure out what.

So there he is, with a broken head, getting checked out in the back of an ambulance surrounded by police cars and with a news van further down the street. Clearly the latest sighting of their on-the-loose abductor is a big deal. Too bad Monroe had to be the official source of the sighting. Way to go unnoticed.

Nick is outside with his partner trying to figure out where she went. The partner keeps looking at Monroe strangely, clearly trying to place him, and Monroe really _really_ hopes it doesn’t come back to him. It could lead to some awkward questions for both him and Nick. But it’s been six months since they met rather unfortunately and with some luck -

"Hey, aren’t you the guy from the Olster case?"

Well there goes his luck.

"What if I am?" he snaps and the paramedic shoots him a reproachful look.

Nick’s partner raises his hands up. "Hey, no offense, man. I was wondering where I knew you from."

Nick - bless him - chooses that moment to point out the surveillance equipment of the store across the street and volunteers his partner to go and look at the film.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks once his partner is safely away.

"Fantastic," Monroe grumbles and flinches when the paramedic shines a light in his eyes. "Would you stop that? I’m fine! I just want to go home."

"Sir, I really think you should go to the hospital."

"Well that’s too bad because I’m not going. Give me whatever paper you need me to sign and I’ll be on my way."

The man purses his lips and shakes his head but he still hands him the form, which Monroe fills and signs with relish before handing it back and hopping out of the ambulance.

Nick looks faintly amused by his antics and Monroe glares at him.

"What?"

Nick shakes his head with a small smile. "Nothing. You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?"

"I heal fast," Monroe says curtly. He just wants to go home. There are too many people around, too many police cars flashing blue red blue red _red_. Combined with the scent of his own blood it is pushing his buttons in all the wrong ways.

He needs to get out of here.

"Do you need someone to drive you home?" Nick asks, keeping pace with him as he starts walking.

"Nah. I’ll be fine. Got my car around here somewhere." He gestures around vaguely and then stops so abruptly Nick reaches out to catch him as if he’s expecting him to keel over.

The Prince is here.

Why is the Prince here?

"Hey man, you’re okay?" Nick’s voice seems very far away as Monroe tries to get a hold of himself. He hates the effect the man has on him, especially when he is so close to losing control. Hates the pull, the need to please, to _serve_. Monroe has no pack and a Prince is the ultimate alpha - it is to be expected, he figures.

Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

The man hasn’t seen him yet and so Monroe takes the occasion to study him. He looks stressed but then again he’s got reasons to be. His city is going crazy and if he doesn’t regain control soon he’s bound to get challenged. That can’t be a nice feeling.

Then Monroe notices the badge and the way everybody seems to report to him and he almost laughs out loud.

Christ, he’s a cop.

Well at least it explains why he has been smelling him on Nick, even more so lately than before and Monroe hadn’t asked, not because he didn’t want to know - Monroe is as curious as the next guy - but because it had coincided with Nick finally starting to look less miserable.

"Monroe? Nick’s sharp voice brings him back to the present and brings the Prince’s eyes on them, sharp and knowing, bringing a shiver down Monroe’s spine. "Okay, that’s it, you’re going back into the ambulance."

"I’m fine," Monroe protests, batting Nick’s hands away. He needs to get himself under control damn it, because the Prince is coming their way and the last thing he needs is -

"Burkhardt," the Prince says, ignoring Monroe in favour of Nick, "is that the witness?"

"Yes, Captain. The suspect attacked him in the middle of the street. Hank is looking at some camera footage to figure out where she went."

"Good. Go help him, I’ll take it from here."

Nick frowns. "Sir, I think he needs some medical attention."

"I’ll take care of it." There is no mistaking the order in his tone this time. It’s brilliant, really, Monroe thinks, still a little dazed. A Prince can’t command a Grimm but a police captain sure can command a subordinate.

Nick nods sharply. "Yes sir."

Nick walks away and the Prince starts walking in the other direction, the one that’s away from police cars and people - away from all that red - and that makes the noise in Monroe’s mind go a little quieter. And the sheer relief of knowing he isn’t going to lose control, not here, not now, because this man won’t _let_ him is what finally does it.

Monroe finds himself on his knees against with no idea how he got there - maybe he could blame the head wound? Thankfully he doesn’t stay there for long, the Prince grasping his elbow and yanking him back to his feet roughly.

"Blutbaden," he sighs to himself, and then: "Go home, you’re a mess. Come to the station later when you’ve got a hold of yourself to give a statement."

It’s an order.

So Monroe goes.

\---

It’s not looking good.

No really, it’s not looking good _at all_.

Or so Nick thinks as Monroe half-carries half-drags him across uneven terrain, trying to put as much distance between them and the Spinnevölker before they regroup and start hunting.

It was a rookie mistake and Nick can’t believe he was so stupid. From the litany of "stupid, stupid, stupid" that keeps falling from Monroe’s lips, neither can he.

Spinnevölker usually hunt in pairs and so he and Monroe had only been expecting the two of them when they had gone looking for the ones responsible for the latest gruesome deaths in Portland - the cocoon and venom had been kind of a dead give-away that some sort of spider creatures were involved. But their couple had turned out to be a threesome, which had left both Nick and Monroe wholly unprepared for the attack on their flank.

In the confusion that followed Nick got bitten and lost his gun - though he’s pretty sure he managed to shoot one of them before it all went a little fuzzy and weird so that might even the odds a little for them.

It’s still not looking good though.

The venom is slowly working its way through his body and Nick can’t really feel his legs anymore. So he relies on Monroe for dragging around and tries to move his feet along to avoid roots and fallen branches.

It’s not working so well, or so he finds out when his right foot catches on something and sends him sprawling, almost taking Monroe down with him.

Monroe crouches down next to him as Nick struggles to push himself back on his feet.

"We’ll stop here," Monroe says.

"I can do this," Nick insists and Monroe gives him a pointed look.

"You can’t even stand up. I can’t carry you and watch our backs at the same time. This position is as defendable as any, might as well wait here."

Which makes sense, Nick has to agree, though he has to wonder what exactly they’re going to be waiting for. He called for back-up before everything went to hell but even he isn’t holding much help of being found in the middle of the 5,000 acres that is Forest Park.

"It’s not good, is it?" he pants, trying to right himself. Not as easy as it seems when your legs aren’t cooperating.

"Tell me about it," Monroe says, taking pity on his struggles and yanking him to an upright position against the nearest tree. "But look at it this way: the venom should wear off in an hour or two. That is, if you’re not dead by then."

Nick graces him with a fake smile. "Thanks. I feel so much better now."

"My pleasure," Monroe answers blithely and starts pawing at Nick.

"Hey!" he protests, trying to bat Monroe’s hands away and failing miserably. 

"I need your cell phone," Monroe says and having found it, waves it in Nick’s face with a peremptory "Pin code?"

"You’ve got your own."

"Fine," Monroe says, raising his eyes to the heavens. "I need your contact list."

"Why?"

"Look, how about we play 20 questions _after_ I save both our asses?"

"Fine." Nick gives it to him and watches Monroe as he scrolls down his contact list until he finds whoever it is he’s looking for. There’s tension on the other’s face as he waits for the call to connect, scanning the woods for signs of trouble and shifting in and out of wolf form repeatedly. It’s more than a little distracting and Nick almost looks away, except then someone picks up and Monroe... settles.

"It’s Monroe. We’re in trouble."

A pause, as whoever’s on the end of the line asks something, the voice too tiny and distorted to make a positive ID, and then:

"Spinnevölker, three of them. Two now. Burkhardt got bit."

Nick stares.

"Forest Park. Near St. Johns Bridge."

Monroe hangs up and - wisely - keeps the phone. 

Damn. 

"Who was that?" Nick still has to ask because he _can’t believe_ there’s someone on his contact list who knows about this world. Knows about him too. Already his mind is churning out possibilities, each of them examined and discarded almost immediately.

"You’ll find out soon enough. Now be quiet. We still have to stay alive until help gets here."

Still...

"I already called for back-ups," Nick feels he has to point out, whispering.

Monroe looks at him incredulously. "Are you whispering? What, you think Spinnevölker can’t hear it? Besides your back-up will never find us in time."

‘And yours will?’ Nick wants to ask but he keeps his mouth shut. As much as he would like to find out who Monroe just called he would also like to live long enough for it to actually matter.

Minutes pass slowly, five, ten, twenty, and Nick peers at the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of something - anything - except his night vision is not as good as Monroe's and he can’t really see anything. 

So instead his mind wanders. He wonders who his power will go to - as far as he knows he’s got no relative, but whoever it is he hopes the poor bastard will be able to cope. He hopes Monroe will make it even if he doesn’t. Hopefully Hank won’t feel too guilty about Nick getting himself killed when he wasn’t there to watch his back, it really wasn’t his fault. He wonders if maybe Juliette will be sad and he hopes she’s moved on. He’s been on a few dates himself, with a couple of women Hank had thrown his way and a couple of men he chose himself, all tall and dark and with the distinct advantage of _not_ being his boss. And maybe that’s what he’ll miss most of all, finding out what might have been, how Sean would react if Nick were to kiss him.

If he gets out of this alive he will find out, he promises himself. Consequences be damned.

They’re getting close to the 30 minute mark when the woods start rustling around them and Monroe tenses next to him.

"They’re here," he says, not bothering to keep his voice low anymore. They already know where they are.

The Spinnevölker aren’t even trying to be subtle, making as much noise as possible - hoping to lead Monroe into the woods and separate them? - and Nick gropes around for something to defend himself - a rock, a branch, anything. He might not have the strength to wield it anymore but at least he’ll die trying. 

It’ll still be much better than ending up in a damn cocoon.

Eventually the two remaining Spinnevölker come out in the open and Nick thinks that this is it. But no, they’re still toying with them, darting close and then away, taunting them. Eventually they will get tired of the game though, and then -

"Stop," someone says and -

Nick knows that voice.

For a whole second the forest stands still. Then it starts moving again except the Spinnevölker who seem frozen in place.

Sean reaches Nick’s side and he looks angry, angrier than Nick has even seen - come to think of it he doesn’t think he’s ever actually seen Sean lose his temper before. Now though? Now the man looks downright furious and for a split second Nick’s vision shifts and he sees -

_a crown on his head and a sword in his hand -_

Nick blinks and it’s just Sean again, calm and impassive, holding his gun at a man and a woman wearing spider faces.

"You have been judged and found guilty," Sean says, enouncing each world carefully. "Under the Law the penalty is death. So I have spoken."

Then he raises his gun and shoots both Spinnevölker in the head.

\---

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Sean watches Nick get loaded into the ambulance, oxygen mask in place to help him breathe as the venom starts getting to his respiratory muscles. He isn’t looking too good and while Sean knows intellectually that he’s going to be fine - Spinnevolk venom doesn’t kill, not even through secondary anoxia - it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

This happened on his watch.

Again.

And now Nick knows.

Monroe is lingering nearby, obviously uncomfortable with all the police cars and their flashing lights. Griffin is shooting him suspicious looks, which Sean files away to deal with later. It’s the third time the two have met over a crime and Griffin is not stupid. He’s going to start asking questions soon and that’s something Sean cannot allow. Something may have to be done.

But first Sean needs to deal with this mess. 

"Griffin," he barks and the man almost jumps to attention. "There should be another body somewhere, find it. And find Burkhardt’s gun."

"Yes, sir." Griffin turns on his heel and tells a couple of uniforms to follow him.

Good man.

One down, one to go.

Sean gestures to Monroe to come over as the ambulance pulls away in a screech of siren and lights.

"Get to the hospital. Stay there until I relieve you."

Monroe nods but keeps hovering.

"Anything else?" Sean asks with a touch of irritation and Monroe pulls a phone out of his pocket.

"Nick’s cell phone," he says, phrasing it almost as a question.

Right.

Sean doesn’t sigh but it’s a near thing.

"Fine, just - leave it with me, I’ll get it back to him."

Monroe hands it to him and seems quite happy to disappear and for a moment Sean wishes he could do the same. He contemplates Nick’s phone for a second and then dismisses the idea. Deleting Monroe’s phone call won’t change anything, not when the chances of Nick suddenly developing amnesia are slim to none. So instead he pockets it and waves at the arriving coroner’s van to park wherever it can.

 

It isn’t until later when he’s walking through the hospital up to Nick’s room that Sean finally allows himself to be angry.

How dare they?

To try and kill Nick when they all know he is under his protection is not just another blatant attack on his authority, it’s a personal insult.

How dare _he_?

He’s been at it for months, causing unrest and undermining Sean’s authority. A Prince who can’t keep his own people under control is not worthy of his crown, or so he’s been whispering to any and all who would listen. Has the Portland Prince gone soft? Grimm creatures need a firm hand or they’ll behave like the animals they are, surely everyone knows that. Just look at all those murders.

Bullshit.

Sean would bet anything that _he_ is behind those murders, fomenting unrest as he always does to get what he wants.

And now Nick knows and it may damn or save them all.

Sean had been planning to wait a little longer before telling him. He may be running short on time but he had been willing to give Nick as much as he could. To get him accustomed to this world, to his role in it, before stepping in and asking for his... cooperation. 

Revealing his true role would inevitably have led to Nick finding out who was responsible for his aunt’s death, not the best of positions to ask for a favour, but by then Nick should have been able to understand.

It’s all gone to hell now and Sean hates it when things don’t go according to his plans.

 

Monroe is loitering outside Nick’s room when he reaches it and Sean doesn’t roll his eyes but it’s a near thing. Really it’s obvious those two are friends, they’re not fooling anyone. Monroe could just go inside and sit with Nick rather than scaring the nursing staff. But that is his business and Sean’s got no say in it. He dismisses him and steps inside Nick’s room. The man’s sleeping and Sean contemplates whether he should stay or go. But then he could do with some quiet, he reflects, and settles in the room’s only chair.

He might as well enjoy the last uncomplicated moments of his and Nick’s relationship.

He doesn’t regret killing Marie Kessler. It was necessary. But he does regret the fact that it’s caused Nick pain.

He doesn’t want to cause Nick pain.

But it seems it is inevitable.

He has enjoyed his company these past few weeks - maybe more than he should. It’s painfully obvious the boy’s attracted to him and that is a recipe for disaster. Or so Sean keeps reminding himself whenever he finds himself caught off guard by his own response to Nick’s unconscious flirtation.

He’s smiling absently when a brisk knock on the door brings him back to the present and he has to school his features back to neutral.

"Yes?" he calls out as softly as he can. Nick moves on the bed but his eyes remain closed as the door opens halfway, Adalind standing in the doorway.

Sean’s eyes narrow.

"What is it?" he asks.

"We've found him," she says and Sean stands, remembering at the last moment to put Nick’s phone on his bedside table.

Their talk will have to wait.

 

Sean gets another call about Nick a day later. The man on the other end of the line tells him the Grimm is shit-faced and refusing to budge from his bar, despite the fact that it’s after closing time.

Sean doesn’t sigh, although he very much wants to. He doesn’t have time for this. But he has to keep decorum, especially around those who are still loyal to him, so he tells the man he will be there soon and hangs up.

It doesn’t take him long to find the place and Nick - who should be home resting, having been released earlier that day from the hospital following his ‘miraculous’ recovery.

Sean nods his thanks to the bartender and the man - who isn’t really a man - wisely disappears in the storage room, leaving him and Nick alone.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Sean says because he might not have any authority over a Grimm but he is still Nick’s captain and this is sheer stupidity.

"Why do you care?" Nick mumbles, refusing to look at him, and Sean does sigh then.

"Nick, when have I ever given you the impression that I do _not_ care?"

Nick stands and turns around to face him, face red and eyes narrowed. He isn’t all that steady on his feet and before he can think better of it Sean reaches out for him.

The kiss takes him by surprise. It’s too hard and too sloppy and absolutely glorious for the two seconds it lasts before Sean comes back to his senses, grabbing Nick’s arms and pushing him gently but firmly away. Nick leans forward, trying to catch his lips again and Sean tightens his hold on him in warning.

"No," he says.

"Why not?"

"Because you’re drunk and you’re angry with me."

Nick laughs and it’s an ugly sound.

"How did you figure that out?"

Sean shakes his head and lets him go.

"Go home, Nick. We’ll talk when you’re sober."

"I have nothing to say to you."

Nick turns away from him then, ignoring him for all intents and purposes. Sean backs off - he knows how to pick his battles and this is one he can’t win, not now anyway. He stops by the storage room on his way out, telling the bartender that someone will come and get the Grimm off his hands shortly.

Once safely outside he takes out his phone and makes a call.

"What?" Monroe sounds half-asleep and annoyed at the whole world. It would make Sean smile under normal circumstances - the wolf is growing on him, it seems - but he’s tired.

"Monroe," he says and he could make this an order, except... "I need a favour."

If Nick can’t bear to be around him right now the least Sean can do is make sure he’s got a friend to talk to.

\---

Monroe bangs on Nick’s door, not caring about the late hour - hey, the man keeps showing up at his place at all hours of day and night, it’s only fair that Monroe would reciprocate from time to time.

He’s had enough of this shit.

It’s been two weeks since they both almost died and Nick found out who his Captain - and friend? boyfriend? Monroe isn’t sure - really was. To say that he isn’t handling it well would be something of an understatement. And yeah, okay, Renard had Nick’s aunt killed but Nick’s going to have to get over it long enough to actually _talk_ to the man so he can then do whatever it is he needs to do or the city is going to _implode_.

Despite the fact that he keeps hanging around Nick Monroe has a very developed survival instinct. Also he likes his life. So he will do whatever he can to _not_ let it all go to hell.

Nick opens the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and Monroe pushes past him and into the apartment he’s been letting since he and his girlfriend split up.

"Do you know what time it is?" Nick grumbles, closing the door with a yawn.

"Who cares what time it is! Someone just tried to kill your boss!"

"What?" Nick sounds wide awake now, and yeah, Monroe thought that would get his attention. Nice to know he still cares.

"He’s fine, his pet Hexenbiest got in the way," Monroe says.

"Adalind Shade is dead?"

"Yeah, but that’s really not the point. Someone. Tried. To kill. The _Prince_. The city is under attack, man! Get over yourself and do something!"

Nick’s face closes off and Monroe mentally groans. Maybe he could have phrased this a little more delicately.

"Get over myself? Monroe, he murdered my aunt!"

"Oh, please!" Monroe huffs. "She was no saint."

Nick’s eyes narrow dangerously but Monroe stands his ground. The kid may not want to hear this but he’s going to have to.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that Marie Kessler killed a lot of creatures during her lifetime."

"But they deserved it," Nick protests.

"Did they?" Monroe asks. "All of them? I don’t know, Nick."

Nick pales a little. "What are you saying?"

"I’m saying that when you hunt creatures long enough, it can be hard to remember that they’re not all blood-thirsty creatures who deserve to die," Monroe says gently. "And it’s even harder when you lose someone you love because of them and it becomes all about revenge."

Nick shakes his head in denial, turning away from him but Monroe presses on.

"Nick, I know you loved your aunt and this doesn’t change the fact that she loved you but if she had walked past me in the street she would have _put me down_."

Monroe doesn’t know how else to put it. He’s sure Kessler was a great aunt or whatever but there is a reason he had nightmares about her for years. He’s not saying the Prince should have killed her. He’s just trying to point out he must have had a _reason_. The man doesn’t strike him as the type of guy who does things on a whim. Nick doesn’t have to forgive him, he can get a transfer and never talk to him again for all Monroe cares, so long as he’s still alive to see it.

Jesus, someone tried to kill the _Prince_. That just doesn’t _happen_. Monroe really hopes he is getting through to Nick because -

"What do you want me to do?" Nick asks and if his eyes are a little shiny, well, Monroe isn’t one to talk.

"You have to talk to the Prince."

"Why? What is that going to achieve?" Nick asks bitterly.

"I don’t know. But he’s got a contender and for some reason he hasn’t done anything about it yet. Going by the timing I’m guessing that reason is you."

"What’s a contender?"

Monroe blinks. "Seriously?"

Sometimes Nick’s utter ignorance concerning everything royalty-related baffles him.

His reaction doesn’t impress Nick much however and Monroe quickly backtracks, throwing his hands up to placate him.

"Sorry, it’s just- Okay, you know how a Prince rules over a city?" Nick nods and Monroe goes on. "Well sometimes Princes challenge each other over their territory and whoever wins gets it all. Now a contender for the crown could just walk up to a Prince and challenge him or her openly - that would be the honourable way of doing things. Or they could go around and purposefully undermine their authority until they had no choice but to issue the challenge themselves."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

"Tell me about it." Monroe shudders at the memories. "I used to live in the Chicago territory when I was a kid. The Prince got challenged. The contender stayed just outside the territory until she had no choice but to go out to meet him. And a city with no Prince in residence is pure chaos. My parents got us the hell out of there. A lot of people died before order was restored, humans and creatures."

Nick nods. He’s got his detective face on.

"How do we know Sean’s being challenged?" he asks and Monroe is pleased to hear him call the Prince by his first name. Even though it’s a bit weird. Not Grimm-weird, just... watching-your-parents-kiss weird.

Not that he thinks of Nick as his mother. That’s disturbing.

He shakes his head to clear it and answers Nick’s question, ignoring the strange look he gets.

"Uh, you may have noticed all the murders involving Grimm creatures happening in the past few months?"

"Well, yeah, but -"

"Looking back now to before you got your mega-cool Grimm powers, how many murders did you catch a year which were so weird that they could have been Grimm-related?"

Nick has to think about it for a few seconds and Monroe waves.

"Proving my point. Not a lot, right? These past few months haven’t exactly been normal - that was the contender making Renard look like he was losing control. Now go get dressed. I’m driving you over there."

"It’s the middle of the night!" Nick protests weakly and Monroe arches an eyebrow at him.

"I guarantee he won’t be sleeping."

Thankfully Nick goes.

\---

Nick doesn’t want to see Sean - Captain Renard. He really _really_ doesn’t want to see him. 

He’s been avoiding him at work, been avoiding him after work and Sean - _Captain Renard_ , damn it! - let him and now someone’s tried to kill him.

Nick doesn’t know how he feels about that. He had been willing to let Schade die for her attempt on his aunt’s life - surely he shouldn’t care about what happens to Renard, the man who ordered it in the first place.

Yet he is finding out he does.

It shouldn’t be such a surprise. They had been friends _before_ , and Nick had been well on his way to falling in love with the man when Schade inadvertently woke him up by coming into his hospital room and talking to Sean like they knew each other - worked together. And Nick had been angry, so angry - for his aunt of course, but also for the way the man had played him and made him _like him_ in one brilliant and no doubt calculated move. More than anything else that’s what keeps Nick up at night, what makes him so angry he can’t see straight sometimes. The way it was all an act - because it had to be, right?

For the past ten days he’s been pretending, pretending that he and Sean - he might as well give up trying to address him differently - have never been friends. Denial is a powerful thing - a wonderful thing - and Nick had been perfectly happy to function under that flawed assumption.

It hurt less that way.

But now here he is, in the passenger seat of Monroe’s shitty car, pulling up in front of Sean’s house, and he resents Monroe - and Sean - for making him confront the truth.

The house is not what he expected. It’s in one of the nicer neighbourhoods of Portland, granted, but it’s small and unassuming and lacking turrets - okay, Nick admits he was expecting something resembling a castle.

There are two uniformed officers standing guard in front of the door - scratch that, there are two Hexenbiests standing guard in front of the door, but they part to let Nick through, Monroe following closely and looking like he might bolt any second.

The door opens before Nick can gather the strength to knock and Nick... stares.

"Hum... Sergeant?" he stammers, thrown completely off balance by the other man’s presence. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Wu blinks at him. "Did you hit your head, Burkhardt? Someone just tried to kill my Lord, where the hell do you think I’m going to be?"

"I just didn’t know that you... you know," Nick gestures helplessly and Wu rolls his eyes at him in exasperation.

"Yeah, I know, Grimm boy. _I_ happen to have some self-control. I have to, hanging around punks like you and your partner all day long."

Nick sputters and Wu goes on, ignoring him completely.

"Now, do I have to take your gun or are you going to play nice?"

"I left my gun at home," Nick says.

"You left -" Wu stops and takes a deep breath, visibly making an effort to remain calm. "You left your gun _at home_? We’re at war, Burkhardt, and you’re walking around without your gun? And you!" Wu turns on Monroe, poking at him with a finger, "you let him walk out of the door without it?"

Monroe shrugs. "I was with him."

"Right," Wu snorts. "Because it’s not like all I would need to take you out is a red T-shirt and some poor sod willing to wave it in your direction."

Monroe snarls and Nick thinks it’s going to turn ugly when:

"Enough," Sean says from somewhere inside the house and miraculously both Monroe and Wu shut up - though they’re still glaring at each other. "Let them in."

Nick steels himself and steps inside, following the sound of Sean’s voice while Monroe remains behind with Wu - hopefully they won’t kill each other before Nick comes back.

He finds Sean in his living room, standing in front of a window though it’s too dark outside to see much of the garden.

‘He looks tired’ is Nick’s first thought, looking at his reflection in the window.

‘There’s blood drying on his shirt’s collar and cuffs’ is the second when Sean turns to look at him.

"Nick," he says with a slight nod, like there’s nothing out of the ordinary, and it’s all Nick can do not to take a swing at the guy.

"You wanted to see me?" he asks tightly and for a split second Sean looks confused.

"Ah. Monroe?" he says with a hint of a smile and Nick is going to _kill_ the Blutbad.

Right now.

"Well, if there was nothing then I guess I’m going to go," Nick says, taking a step back, except:

"Nick."

He stops.

"Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?" Sean says and it’s as close to an entreaty Nick’s ever heard him sound.

Nick opens his mouth before thinking better of it and closing it with an audible click. No, he isn’t going to play this game. Sean’s too good at it, it’s not fair. 

"Why did you kill her?"

It bursts out of him even as he resolves to leave and once he’s started he finds that he can’t stop talking.

"She only had a few months to live, what difference would it have made? Why couldn’t you give us that?"

"Because, Nick, in those few months she would have made you in her image and I couldn’t let that happen."

"Why not? Why would it have been so bad?"

"Because she killed indiscriminately. If you did too I would have intervened."

"What, you would have killed me too?" Nick asks bitterly and Sean looks back at him unflinchingly.

"I will not stand for innocent people I have been charged to protect being killed in my territory."

"Don’t you? I’ve killed people too."

"Kills that were justified and sanctioned - by me."

Nick shakes his head. He’s pretty sure he would remember it if his boss had given him permission to start shooting whoever he pleased. "No, they weren’t."

"Who assigned you those cases?" Sean asks with a raised eyebrow and Nick stares.

"That doesn’t count."

"In our world, it does."

"That’s..." Nick trails off. That makes no sense. Sometimes it feels like he’s playing a game no one’s bothered to tell him the rules of. It’s not a good feeling.

"Why does it matter anyway?" he asks, almost to himself, and Sean studies him for a few seconds before answering.

"It matters because I need you to do something for me."

Nick snorts. Yeah, that’s perfectly logical. "And you thought killing my aunt would help with that how?"

"Nick, you know what it is I do?"

Nick nods reluctantly. "You keep the peace."

"Simplistically put, but true. There’s a contender for my crown and I will have to issue a challenge soon."

"That concerns me how?" Nick asks flippantly and Sean’s eyes narrow.

"It concerns you because when an heirless Prince leaves his territory things tend to go very bad very quickly. I have no heir. So I would think that as a Grimm and as a police officer, that _would_ concern you."

Nick looks away, feeling his face redden with shame as he remembers what Monroe said about Chicago. Sean’s right of course. There’s no way he’s going to let Portland descend into chaos, not if he can stop it.

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to hold the peace in my absence."

"Me?" Nick blurts out. "I can’t!"

"You’re a Grimm. People know you. And for all intents and purposes we’ve been working together to hold the peace for months. That will help."

"But -"

"Nick, all I’m asking is for you to keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing. With luck having you officially in charge will be deterrent enough for the more troublesome of our denizens and it’ll keep the harmless ones calm."

Nick wants to protest, except Sean looks so damn earnest and it does make sense in a strange twisted way.

"Why me?" he finally asks.

"Because there’s no one else," Sean admits. "Don’t you see? That’s why I couldn’t let your aunt twist your views. Because then there would have been _no one_ and the city would be lost. It is my duty to make sure that doesn’t happen."

"Fine. I’ll do it," Nick says and Sean closes his eyes for a split second. "But I’m not doing this for you," he adds and Sean inclines his head slightly.

"Very well. Kneel."

Nick’s eyes widen. "What, you mean we’re doing it now?"

"It’s been going on for too long already."

"Uh, okay."

Nick kneels, feeling incredibly awkward. But the awkwardness quickly gives way to something uncomfortably close to awe when his vision shifts to let him see Sean in full prince regalia. He had thought maybe he had hallucinated the whole thing the first time around but clearly not. It’s... breathtaking, he admits reluctantly. The Prince of Portland is breathtaking.

Thankfully he doesn’t get too long to delve on that traitorous thought as Sean holds up a crown. It’s less elaborate than his own, a simple golden circle lacking the spikes on Sean’s - or whatever those are called, it’s not like Nick knows anything about crowns - but it has the same words engraved on it: ‘CHARACTER UND AUFRICHTIGKEIT’.

"Nick Burkhardt, of the line of the Grimms, do you swear to uphold the Law in my absence, to bring justice to those who would ask for it and those who cannot, and treat all creatures fairly and equally?"

"I swear," Nick says and Sean puts the crown on his head.

It feels cold and foreign and Nick has to resist the urge to shake it off. The next second the feeling is gone and Nick knows that it’s now hidden from human eyes.

"Rise."

Nick does, feeling a little overwhelmed and Sean steadies him with a hand on his arm. He looks like Sean now and Nick finds himself staring at his lips for a second too long before shaking himself. Sean is a little slow in letting him go and Nick looks pointedly at his hand until he does, stepping away from Nick.

"They will know I’m gone," Sean says. "Be sure to be seen out in public as much as possible in the next few days. They'll know about you too."

"I will."

"Wu will help if there are any problems."

"Fine. Am I free to go now?"

Sean looks at him for a few more seconds and he almost seems sad. Nick fights to hold on to his anger and turns sharply on his heel when he finally nods.

He leaves without saying goodbye.

He regrets it later.

\---

"I should be going with you," Wu mutters.

Sean rolls his eyes. They’ve had this conversation half a dozen times already.

"You need to be there for Nick." 

"Yeah, Nick... Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"There hardly was any another option, was there?"

Wu hesitates and then says: "Don’t challenge him."

Sean raises an eyebrow at his sergeant. "And let more people get killed on my watch because of his childish behaviour?"

Wu shrugs.

"Those people won’t be much better off if you get yourself killed and we get saddled with him now will they?"

"Why, Sergeant, your faith in me is overwhelming," Sean drawls out.

"Yeah, yeah, don’t flatter yourself," Wu rolls his eyes at him and Sean smirks. He likes interacting with Wu. They’ve known each other for so long that there is no bullshit between them.

"I’ll see you in a few days," Sean states firmly and steps out of the house, nodding at the guard that will be accompanying him.

"Hey," Wu calls out as he’s getting into the car. "I mean it. Don’t get yourself killed. I don’t want to have to tell the kid. He might cry."

Sean waves him off.

He somehow doubts that.

 

The drive takes close to three hours and Sean looks at his territory going by. He loves it fiercely in a way that has nothing to do with reason or restraint and everything to do with blood, and he feels it when they cross the border, a sheer wrongness deep in his bones that puts him off balance and on edge.

Soon after that the car slows and stops. Sean steps out and scans his surroundings. There isn’t much to look at. A few creatures are loitering about - Sean recognizes one or two, troublemakers he banished from his territory and who know better than to go back - unless of course the Prince who did the banishing is no longer in the city. No doubt they were just waiting for him to step out in order to return.

They’re in for a nasty surprise then.

One of them smirks at him and walks up to the border, clearly intent on defying him. And walks into a wall.

Sean smirks back. He may be out but Nick isn’t. As long as he lives and keeps Sean’s Law all his judgements hold - banishments included.

He pulls his gun out of his holster and shoots the would-be trespasser. 

"Anyone else?" he asks around and no one answers. "Good. Now, where is he?" he asks the nearest creature who seems to shrink at the attention and points to his right.

"Thank you."

The crowd parts before Sean and his guard follows closely, until finally Sean reaches the man he was looking for.

"Patrick," he says.

The man in question turns around with a wide smile. Sean hasn’t seen him in years but he hasn’t changed. He’s still the same arrogant and superior asshole.

"I challenge you."

"Brother, you wound me." Patrick smirks. "But what can I do? I accept of course."

"Should we talk specifics then?"

"Why the rush? I haven’t seen you in years. Surely we have time to catch up first."

Sean shoots him a look. "Chicago, Patrick? Really? How did that work out for you? I hear our sister sent you packing rather quickly."

Patrick’s eyes narrow.

"Oh, but I know what you’ve been up to too. A Grimm, Sean? Really? Longing for the old days, are we? Father would be so proud. But Westphalia is no more. It didn’t work then and it’s not going to help you now. Although I admit it was a smart move, leaving the boy in charge. It won’t save your precious city but it was smart."

Sean rolls his eyes. His brother always had a flare for the dramatic.

"Have you called for the Council?" he asks. He’d rather not spend any more time here than necessary.

"Why would I do that? You’re the one issuing a challenge."

"Fine," Sean says shortly. There are rules to this sort of things and one of them is that the fairness of the fight must be witnessed. So Sean takes his phone and dials, keeping an eye on his brother. He doesn’t trust him farther than he can throw him.

"This is Portland," he says when his call connects. "I have issued a challenge."

He gives their location and hangs up. Then he studies his brother in silence, wondering where it all went wrong.

"Why do you keep doing this, over and over again?" he finally asks.

"Why?" Patrick shrugs. "Because I’m bored and I have no territory of my own."

"You had one. Then you decided that creatures shouldn’t be allowed to live!"

Anger flashes in Patrick’s eyes and he takes a menacing step forward. Sean stands his ground. He’s used to his brother’s temper.

"They murdered Mother!" Patrick yells and Sean grits his teeth.

"One of them did, and he died for it. Who would you govern if you killed all your subjects?"

Patrick shakes his head, rejecting his words. He never did listen. "Why do you always insist that we can all live peacefully? Surely the recent strings of murders in _your_ city should have shown you otherwise."

"You mean the murders _you_ orchestrated?"

Patrick grins. "Creatures are so expendable."

Sean shakes his head. "You are mad, brother."

He shrugs. "Maybe."

"What do you want?"

"What do I _want_?" Patrick looks almost surprised by the question. "Well that crown on your head for one. And your pet Grimm as well - do you think he will kill for me as obediently as he does for you?"

Sean grits his teeth and doesn’t rise to the bait.

The Council cannot get here fast enough.

\---

Monroe will be honest: he almost fell over the first time he saw Nick with that crown on his head. Luckily it isn’t associated with any urge to prostrate himself in front of the guy so he’s thankful for small blessings and all that.

He would never have lived that one down.

Renard has been gone for almost two days now and it feels... strange.

Barring his time in Chicago as a kid and now Portland, Monroe’s never lived in a territory before, his family preferring to be free of anyone’s authority. So he doesn’t know if this is normal, if he was supposed to know the minute the Prince stepped out of range - so to speak - or that Nick was the new... whatever he is.

It’s probably not just him though. There has been very little disturbance in town in the past couple of days. The only murders - as far as Monroe knows - have been human on human and even those have been few. In fact it almost feels like the entire city is holding its breath, waiting for the outcome of the challenge.

And Nick is -

Well...

Let’s just say that Monroe is keeping a close eye on him, waiting for the moment realisation comes crashing in.

Speaking of the devil...

Wu’s pulling up in front of Monroe’s house to drop Nick off. They’ve been sharing babysitting duties - not that Monroe would ever call it that in Nick’s face, although Wu probably has -, Wu taking days and Monroe nights. It’s been working very well - unless you count Wu sleeping in his car around the corner and Monroe loitering outside the station all day long. Paranoia, thy name is Hexenbiest. And okay, Blutbad too.

Nick isn’t very happy about it, especially having to move in with Monroe for a few days, his apartment deemed unsafe, but it’s only temporary - or so they hope. His pride will have to survive.

Wu sees him watching from the window and gestures him over. He looks tense or rather tenser than usual and Monroe heads outside. He doesn’t like the guy and makes no secret of it - it’s mutual too from the looks of it - but they share a common goal and so for now they tolerate each other.

"What?"

"I talked to him," Wu says, watching Nick go inside the house. Monroe’s pulse ratchets up. "The Council’s finally arrived. The challenge should be tomorrow. The contender won’t be fighting though - he asked for a champion."

Monroe growls - coward - and Wu nods.

"If it doesn’t go well he says to get Nick out of here. He is making all kinds of threats against him, it won’t be safe for him if we lose the city."

"Nick isn’t going to like it," Monroe warns and Wu shrugs.

"Yeah well he’ll like it even less if he’s dead."

"So... how does it work? How will we know?"

"If Renard dies?"

Monroe nods.

"Believe me, you’ll feel that." With that Wu turns the ignition back on and goes to take his usual spot. He isn’t even trying to be subtle. It’s a wonder no one’s called the cops.

Shaking his head Monroe goes back inside slowly and heads for the kitchen. 

He needs some herbal tea.

"What were you talking about?" Nick asks from the doorway.

Monroe shrugs and takes out another cup. Nick could do with some herbal tea too. 

The thing is, Nick hasn’t asked any question about the challenge and Monroe doesn’t know whether it’s because he knows already or because he doesn’t want to know. And, if it’s the latter, whether it’s because he cares too much or not at all.

"Exit strategies," he says and Nick frowns, taking the cup Monroe forcefully puts into his hands.

"The challenge is tomorrow," Monroe elaborates carefully, trying to gauge Nick’s reaction. "If it doesn’t go well we may have to fight our way out of here."

"What do you mean ‘if it doesn’t go well’?"

"Uh, Nick, what do you think a challenge is?" Monroe has to ask because for all the things Nick’s been figuring out from _somewhere_ about Grimm creatures, his knowledge of royalty is frankly abysmally limited. Come to think of it, Monroe is pretty sure he is the one who’s told Nick everything he knows about it.

And he’s never gone into the details of what a challenge is.

"Two Princes arguing over who makes a better ruler?" Nick says flippantly though Monroe can see the hint of worry in his eyes behind the façade.

"Right... Well, not exactly." How to put this tactfully? "Think more... fight to the death... with swords?" He winces. That wasn’t very tactful, was it?

Nick goes very still and Monroe creeps closer, ready to rescue his mug if need be. He likes this one.

"What? That’s ridiculous," Nick says, glaring at Monroe and keeping his mug out of reach. Well at least he doesn’t look like he is going to drop it anymore. "Who even does that? Swords?" 

"Princes, obviously. But don’t worry," he says, trying to sound upbeat. "Wu says Renard’s been challenged before and obviously it went fine, right? No reason for him not to be this time. I mean, the guy’s been around for a while, right?"

"How is that supposed to be better? Wait." Nick has that look in his eyes, the one he usually gets when he thinks he’s onto something, right before he asks Monroe to smell something. Bugger. "What does ‘a while’ mean?"

Monroe winces. "Uh... A couple of centuries? Probably?"

"You mean Princes are immortal?!"

"Well, no, or they wouldn’t be fighting sword duels to the death," Monroe feels he has to point out, although this seems to annoy Nick more than anything else. "They just... age slowly, I guess. Most Grimm creatures do too. I’m pretty sure so do you now that you got your superpowers," he offers helpfully.

"I think I need to sit down," Nick says faintly.

"Yeah, good idea. Here, let’s me take that mug for you."

They sit in silence for a while, Monroe sipping his tea and after some consideration nudging Nick to do the same.

"I really think Renard is going to be fine," Monroe finally says, hoping to cheer Nick up.

It fails. Nick stiffens and stands.

"I don’t care," he mutters and leaves the room.

"Right. Keep telling yourself that. I have a nose, you know?" Monroe says to his empty kitchen.

What a mess.

\---

Nick’s tense. He’s snapped at Hank twice already this morning and it’s barely 10 o’clock. He’s mumbled a quick "I didn’t sleep well last night" apology both times, which - while technically true - really doesn’t begin to cover it. 

Every phone call makes him jump half out of his skin and he can’t seem to focus on the cold case in front of him.

All he can think about is Sean fighting some sort of freaking _duel_ somewhere and quite possibly dying because of it.

Seriously, who does that anymore?

Does Sean even know _how_ to use a sword?

Well, yeah, probably, considering the man is like _200 years old_ \- sword fighting is probably something they learned before they could even walk back then.

Sometimes Nick really hates his aunt and his parents and his whole _family tree_ for dragging him into this. A family tree Sean probably knew _in person_ , that’s how fucked up the whole thing is. 

Nick isn’t stupid, he can use Wikipedia like the next guy. The ‘Character und Aufrichtigkeit’ that’s written on Sean’s crown, that’s German for ‘character and honesty’, the motto of the Order of the Crown of Westphalia. And guess who the King of Westphalia appointed as his court librarian in 1808? Jacob Grimm, that’s who.

Seriously the whole thing is making his head hurt.

It’s also shattering little by little Nick’s carefully constructed and maintained façade of not giving a damn and he is really trying to hold on to something here, to stay angry, except inevitably it all leads back to Sean and a sword and a lot of blood.

He hates that.

Around 1 o’clock Wu’s phone rings. Hank’s given up on Nick as a lost cause by then and left to get some lunch. It’s unfair, really. Sergeant Wu has been just as short-tempered this morning - although since it’s pretty much his default setting no one probably noticed.

But this call is different, Nick can tell right away from the way the man goes rigid and then relaxes in the course of two seconds, leaving Nick almost sick with relief.

"Come on, let’s go," Wu says and Nick looks up to see him standing in front of him.

Nick scrambles to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"Hospital."

"But he won?"

"He won," Wu confirms. "If he hadn’t he wouldn’t be in the hospital."

Outside Monroe is pretending to read a newspaper on the bench by the bus stop and he jumps to his feet when he sees the two of them coming out of the building.

"What? What?" He is looking around, clearly expecting bad news and the hounds of hell after them.

"Relax, wolf boy," Wu says. "It went our way. Told you it would, didn’t I?"

Monroe relaxes at once and grins like a loon, and even Nick finds himself smiling back.

 

The hospital is small and private and no doubt very expensive. But then it would have to be. Nick isn’t sure how a police captain would go around explaining _sword wounds_.

Now that he is here, Nick is dragging his feet. 

Why did he come?

It would be pointless to pretend that he doesn’t care about Sean. He’s tried and it didn’t work. 

But now that the worry and relief are ebbing away it’s easy to see that nothing has changed. Sean still killed his aunt. He had his reasons for it, and maybe they even were good ones in the grand scheme of things. But to Nick the grand scheme of things doesn’t really matter. She was still his aunt and he loved her and Sean killed her.

He stops in front of Sean’s room, the Hexenbiest standing guard doing a little bow and opening the door for him before Nick can change his mind and leave, and he has no choice but to step inside.

Sean is sitting up on the bed, staring outside the window with a slight frown on his face. He looks paler than usual, which probably explains the blood bag hanging from the IV stand next to him. The cause for that is fairly easy to figure out - Nick has never seen someone with so many bandages. 

Nick decides there and then he really doesn’t like swords.

Sean turns his head when the door closes behind Nick and a smile crosses his face for a split second before he schools his face into a more impassive mask.

"Nick," he says. "Was there any troubles?"

It figures really that that would be the first question he asks. Nick isn’t going to pretend he understands the weird attachment Princes appear to have for their territory, although he does think it seems a little unhealthy. Sean _was_ almost run through with a sword for it.

But then it’s probably better that Princes care. Otherwise, well... Nick doesn’t want to think about that.

"No, no troubles at all."

"Good. Then I apologize but I’m going to have to ask you to hang on to that crown for a little while longer while I’m here," he gestures at the room with a scowl and somehow it doesn’t surprise Nick at all that Sean would be a terrible patient.

"Sure."

"Thank you."

Nick stands there for a handful of awkward seconds as silence stretches between them and then shakes himself.

"Right then. I should probably go back. Hank’s going to wonder where I went," he says and backtracks out of the room as fast as he can, trying to ignore the way Sean’s looking at him leave.

Trying to ignore the question in the back of his mind.

Where do they go from here? 

\---

Sean has been back for a day after a two week absence and he thinks the paperwork is trying to kill him. 

No, really. Has Wu filled any forms while he was away? Because it sure doesn’t look like it.

Sean is never leaving him in charge again.

But at least it is keeping him busy and he’ll take that over staring at four walls any day, contemplating things he doesn’t want to contemplate.

His brother’s disappeared again, turning tail and running like the coward that he is the minute his champion hit the ground. He’ll resurface eventually and start making troubles again, of that Sean has no doubt, although he hopes someone else will deal with him next time.

A knock on his open door makes him look up. A cursory look at the detective room tells him everyone’s gone home and then his gaze gets to the door and -

Nick.

He hasn’t talked to him since that first day in the hospital. He has kept his distance, trying to respect Nick’s wishes. He didn’t push, didn’t argue, didn’t try to make him see his side of things again.

The danger’s passed now and they’re all still here. Sean did what he did but at least it wasn’t all for nothing. If Nick never wants to see him again Sean will respect that.

The city is still standing and that’s all that matters.

Isn’t it?

Nick is hovering in the doorway with a determined look on his face and Sean puts his pen down.

"I was wondering..." Nick starts, trailing off a little before rallying, "Do you want to have dinner?"

It comes out rushed and too fast and Sean thinks maybe he misunderstood except there really is no way to misunderstand those six little words.

Nick seems to take his silence for a negative answer, opening his mouth to take his offer back even as he starts to turn away and Sean really can’t let that happen.

"Yes, I do," he says quickly, stopping Nick in his tracks. "Just let me grab my coat."

He does just that and they walk to their usual place in silence. It’s awkward, the same way it was awkward the first time they had dinner yet different. Their waitress smiles at them, taking them to their usual booth with a cheerful "I was wondering where you two had disappeared to" which makes Nick go a little red in the face.

It’s cute.

Sean sits at his usual place and glances out of the window, watching people walk by. His people. His city. Running smoothly. Unaware and uncaring of the sacrifices that have been made in its name.

Then he looks at Nick who is tracing elaborate patterns on the table top with a nervous finger and he smiles.

It was all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at my livejournal.


End file.
